


The Dramatic Irony Of Falling In Love With Your Best Friend

by typicalGodcomplex



Category: Adventures of OB, adventures of octopus boy
Genre: Adventures Of Octopusboy, Love, M/M, MACK CAN YOU NAME THE DAMN OCTOPUS YET FUCK, Masturbation, THE DAMIAN/MALIK IS BREIF IT'S OK I'M NOT GONNA BREAK YOUR HEART (too much, more like cocktopusboy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:33:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3265073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typicalGodcomplex/pseuds/typicalGodcomplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>OB's in love. Shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dramatic Irony Of Falling In Love With Your Best Friend

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this is dumb im writing this for mack and i guess im starting off the tag for these gay babes cool

Your Eyes trace along the curves in his neck, his jaw tightening subtly when he chews the gum he's not supposed to have. Your eyes flutter at the thought of tracing your tongue along the curve of his ear and -- "OB IF YOU WOULD STOP DAYDREAMING AND PAY ATTENTION TO THE LESSON IT WOULD BE APPRECIATED," Shouted the thundering voice of Mr.Schwarchen. You sigh and respond with a simple "Yes sir," and quickly copy the slide on the board. Malik turns to you when your teacher turns around, mouthing 'fuck him right?' and you can almost hear his accent. You smile and nod, adjusting your uniform collar out of habit. 

The rest of the day goes on uneventfully, with Malik and Damian, a boy in the class above you, sharing their usual banter and playful 'no-homo' flirting. Only at dinner, when the attention gets turned to you do you realize that your huge metaphorical gay boner might not be as well hidden behind the metaphorical text book of 'no homo dude' as you thought it was. "So OB, who are you gonna ask?" You hear Damian ask, his voice yanking you forcefully out of any thought you totally weren't having about Malik. "Huh?" You respond, taking a bite of your side roll. "To the end of term dance. Obviously." You can almost hear the eyeroll in his voice and you see his eyes travel to a table of girls. He pushes his hair back and gives them a smile just large enough to reveal the banned smiley piercing he has. They of course giggle and turn around. "That's not fair to do to them if you don't even like girls," You say, picking at your meal. He scoffed. "Whatever. I go alone every year anyway I don't know what they're expecting. Anyway, you never answered my question." "There's that one girl, fuck what's her name, the one with the cool hair that's always eyeing you. You should ask her." Malik said, joining the conversation. You shrug apathetically. "She's cool I guess." Damian laughs, and as always it sounds as cocky as he is (or so you've heard). "Nah, I know who he wants to ask. It's not her I can tell you that much." He winks at you, and you can only hope Malik doesn't notice. You understand the subtext though, you understand he meant not 'a' her. He knows.

You spend the rest of dinner quietly making yourself smaller than you already are. Malik and Damian exchange the banter of who is truly the bigger whore while you secretively wish all of Maliks sex life included you. These thoughts obviously leave you with a very... unfortunate preDICKament, so you excuse yourself to go back to you and Maliks dorm. Luckily, the walk to your dorm room is a quick one, and no one sees you on your way there (even if you were wearing pants that make it impossible to distinguish anything, you didn't want to take the chance). You enter, put away your things, briefly greet your pet, and get down to 'buisness'. You sit on the couch and unzip your pants, releasing the growing pressure. You wrap your hand around yourself and sigh, dragging it lazily up and down. Your breath hitches and you tug on your lip between your teeth as you run your thumb over the head of your cock. You're not big, you realize this, but you're not small either, you suppose (and hope) you're a decent enough size. You close your eyes and imagine Malik, His tongue flat against you, dragging up before he wraps his lips around you. You imagine his deep brown eyes staring up at you and you almost lose it right there. You push your pants down to your knees and prop your leg up on the coffee table, even if you almost have to lay down to do it. You suck on your finger and reach down, your other hand still pumping your dick. You push into yourself, used to the unusual feeling begin fucking yourself, pathetically whimpering. You imagine Malik walking in on you like this, bending you over and fucking you for real and you're gone. You cum with the disappointment of you having to do the laundry again because of this. 

You pull up your pants and quickly strip yourself of your shirt, the cold greeting your skin like a slap. You clean up the offending splatter with your previously discarded shirt, and move to your bedroom to pick out something warmer than your uniform. You decide on a sweater, and you're about to put it on when an idea hits you. Malik shouldn't be home for another 20 minutes at least. You place your shirt back in the cupboard and go into his room, searching for what you know is there. You find it after some struggle, his room in the state that it always is(i.e. messier than the file folder from hell), and tug on his favorite sweatshirt. It's old, and has holes where he shoves his thumbs through the sleeves. It hangs on you like a bedsheet rather than a sweater, even if you're not as skinny as him, you are far shorter. You bring the sleeves up to your nose and inhale, warmth flooding your face as you do. You walk into the living area and fall down onto the couch, curling in on yourself and the sweatshirt. You smile when you hear a disapproving gurgle from your octopus. "Shut it, it's not like he'll know. Don't you give me that look you'd do the exact same thing if you were me." You spit a raspberry as it goes back to playing with some hollow cubes you bought it earlier in the week. You move around until your knees are inside of it, making sure not to stretch it. You tuck your head in and breathe in the smell of cheap cigarettes and marshmallows. He swears up and down he doesn't smell like the gooey center of a s'more, but you know he does. You close your eyes and relax to the sound of the soft hum of your octopus' tank, and soon fall asleep. 

You wake up to a sucker coming roughly off your face. "Ah shit what the hell?!" Your octopus stares disapprovingly at you from the arm of the couch. Damn it for being so smart. "FINE! Fine. I'll take it o-" You're cut off by some laughing at the door, followed by the click of the turning lock. You get up so quickly you fall flat on your face, but manage to get into his room faster than he can come into the dorm. "Later douchebag," You hear Malik say with a laugh. You strip yourself of the sweater while he calls out for you. "Hey OB wharrya I wanna show you some lyrics I got." You stumble out of his room with about as much grace as a flamingo on roller skates. You raise a hand weakly. "Hi," You say, offering a smile. "Why were you in my room?" He asks. "Cleaning up the mess you can even DARE to call a room." He scoffs and steps over to the couch, slumping down before clicking on the TV. What omes out of his mouth next is something you'd have never even hoped for. "Hey OB, I thinkI'm bi."


End file.
